


Night Cap

by polemisti



Series: Lucien has a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Year [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, I haven't finished the book yet lmao, M/M, Mild Blood, Multi, Sad boi hours, feyre is referenced, referenced feyre archeron/tamlin, referenced lucien/tamlin/feyre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polemisti/pseuds/polemisti
Summary: Takes place between chapter 17 and 18.Tamlin checks in with Lucien after the death of the summer court faerie.
Relationships: Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra
Series: Lucien has a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Year [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896466
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Night Cap

“Lucian,” Tamlin said softly late that night. He had changed clothes, and most of the blood on his face and hands had been successfully wiped away, but there were still hidden smatterings of drying blood in his hair and under his fingernails. He would need to bathe in the morning. Lucian, halfway through his second decanter of wine, did not respond to Tamlin’s soft question.

“Lucian,” Tamlin tried again, firmer. That got his attention. The high fae whipped his head up in a scowl, downing the rest of his glass in messy gulps. Red wine spilled down the corner of his lips and stained his white tunic. Tamlin avoided making the obvious comparison.

“Get out,” Lucian hissed, slamming his crystal glass onto the table.

“Of my own house?” Tamlin quipped, sitting in the chair across from Lucian. The faerie only glared before pouring himself another glass, downing that one as quickly as he finished the first. He moved to pour another, and Tamlin managed to wave his hands a moment before Lucian’s fingers would have grasped the neck of the decanter—watching it vanish. Lucian nearly growled, but changed his mind, electing to stand up swiftly instead.

“If you won’t leave, I will.” He hissed.

Tamlin beat him to the door.

“Sit down.”

Tamlin had left no room for argument. Slowly, and with a vicious glare, Lucian sat. Tamlin sat too. They had traded seats in the process, and Tamlin noted the heat which the plush seat still emanated—remnants of Lucian’s own fiery rage and sorrow.

Tamlin allowed Lucian time to stew in his feelings, which churned with a passion so powerful it shifted the air around them. The stewing ended, finally, after they had sat in the darkness for a long while. Tamlin could not pinpoint the exact moment it happened if tasked to do so, but he recognized its existence nonetheless.

“Better?” Tamlin asked.

Lucian glared, but the expression was offered with no anger.

“You should leave,” Lucian offered quietly, “If you stay… if Feyre found us…” There were so many unspoken words which sat heavy between them;  _ She wouldn’t understand. _

“Feyre is asleep.”  _ I am not leaving you. _

More silence. Less heavy, this time.

“You laid him to rest, I hope.”

Tamlin only nodded.

Another long silence. Years ago, they may have felt the need to fill the air with worthless nonsense in a failed attempt at posturing. The need had withered with the passage of time.

“She—held his hand.”

Lucian looked up.

“Even after. She held it. I had to ask her to let go.”

“You like her.” Lucian said, darkly. Tamlin felt an angry heat flash in his gut. 

“Do not play jealous.  _ You’re  _ the one who said I should pursue her—”

In the blink of an eye, Lucian was standing above Tamlin, grinning softly down at him. His hands gripped each armrest, trapping the high fae in the chair. Tamlin leveled a bored glare in return.

“I am not jealous,” Lucian said, tucking a strand of bloodstained hair behind the high lord’s ear. “You are mine tonight. If tomorrow I must share your affections with another, so be it. When she dies in a handful of her quick human years, you will be mine again.”

“I watch how you look at her, Lucian.” Tamlin looked at Lucian with large and innocent eyes which did not match any other feature on the high lord. “We could always share her. She does not need to be mine alone.”

“She is neither of ours yet.” Lucian pointed out with a small smile.

“I like her. Despite her initial prejudices, she is beginning to like us in return—”

“I grow bored of this conversation.” Lucian cut the high lord off, lifting himself from his position over the high lord and turning around. Slowly and methodically, he unbuttoned his tunic, shrugging off the garment and watching as it fell to the floor. His trousers, too, the high fae removed, until he was just in his undergarments. Tamlin watched, hungrily, but said nor did anything from his seat. Lucian was halfway across the room by then, and had not spared a single glance to the high lord. 

“You may stay here tonight, if you wish. But in the morning, you will take Feyre with you to the pools.”

“The pools? Why?”

“She’s a human. They like things like that.” Lucian shrugged.

“You will come with us.”

Lucian could have argued. Tamlin had said the order softly enough that he would have been able to convince the high lord of his own idiocy before the night had ended. But the high fae was tired and queasy and drunk and—and Lucian liked, for a moment, the feeling of being wanted. He allowed the feeling to sit, light and airy, in his shoulders and chest. He slipped into bed, and, a moment or two later, felt the mattress dip as Tamlin joined him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm literally on like chapter 24 please don't spoil anything in the comments lmao.


End file.
